Kicking Around (Completed!)

The Photo

Click-click.

Scott lowered the camera and frowned.

"How do you think it got up there?" he asked.

"Haven't a clue," Dan grunted. They'd been stopped on the trail for a good five minutes, but he still couldn't look away from the tree. "I'd imagine it was probably dead well before it got stuck."

Scott scowled at him. "What makes you say that?" He pulled a thermos out of his backpack and took a swig. The early morning climb had been his idea to begin with, but he still found himself somewhat winded as they walked the trail.

Dan jutted his chin toward the deer. "Check out the neck," he said.

"Yeah?"

"See how it's all dangly and lopsided?"

"Sure."

"I believe it broke its neck somehow," Dan said with a smug smile.

Scott looked at Dan, back at the deer, and back to Dan again. "And I think you're an idiot," he said.

"What? Why?"

"Because," Scott said slowly, "if a deer goes off and breaks its neck, it ain't gonna go climbin' up fifteen feet to die in a tree." He raised his camera and took three more shots. Click-click-click.

"Well, of course not," Dan protested. "But maybe a bobcat or mountain lion caught it, broke its neck in the process and stashed it up there. You know, for a midnight snack or something."

"Are you serious?"

Dan grinned. "What? They do stuff like that. I think I saw it on Animal Planet or something."

"Uh-huh."

"Dude. It so could've happened that way."

Scott took another drink, swished the water around in his mouth and spat it out on the trail. "No, dorkus," he said, shaking his head. "It couldn't have. Especially not like that."

"What? Why the heck not?" Dan was losing his patience. They'd been close friends for two years and college roommates for one, but today Scott was seriously beginning to get on his nerves. It was the name-calling. It was immature and annoying, and he was starting to get angry.

"Because," Scott jeered.

"Because why?"

"Becaauuse..." Scott intoned, pointing to the deer, "of the way that one branch is stickin' out of the middle of its gut." He held up the camera and zoomed in closer, capturing the exquisite details of the blood-crusted puncture wound. Click-click.

Dan moved up the trail to get a better look. Scott was right. A bloody, 3-foot branch was jutting directly out of the animal's rib cage, pointing upward at an awkward angle. "So...?"

"So, you think a mountain cat's somehow able to grab the thing by the neck, haul it up the tree, and drop it with enough force to impale it on that thing? And at that angle?"

Dan studied the tree, doing the calculations in his mind. He slowly shook his head. "Nope," he finally exclaimed, "You're right. There's no way a cat could've done that." He looked up the trail, studying the ground. "Maybe a bear?" he shrugged. "You know, they're a lot stronger than they look. Smarter, too."

"As opposed to you? The 'bear with very little brain?'" Scott said, sneering at him. "Nah, it wasn't a bear..."

"Well, what was it then, hotshot? You're the outdoorsman. What's your theory? One of Santa's frequent fliers? Did he lose his happy thoughts up in the sky? Fall down go boom?"